


Created Equal

by MayGlenn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Competent Finn, F/M, Finn is Not a Virgin, First Kiss, Gen, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Kink Discovery, Kink Negotiation, Light BDSM, M/M, Oral Sex, Pining, Poe Dameron Hurts So Prettily, Secret Relationship, Stormpilot, Whump, clone wars au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 11:01:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9231971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayGlenn/pseuds/MayGlenn
Summary: “I saw that,” Padmé said. “You and the trooper.”“Whataboutme and the trooper?” Poe said, his voice pitched high. “What trooper? I know several troopers. I don’t even know what you’re talking about!”Padmé waited.“He is really cute,” Poe said, in his defense.“They all look the same,” Padmé said, bemused.“Theydon’t. Finn is gorgeous!” Poe gasped and clapped a hand over his mouth, glaring at Padmé when she laughed. “I mean—”Padmé laughed. “Hey, I’m married to a Jedi Knight. Stranger things have happened.”...Or, Finn and Poe write self-insert historical fanfiction, and at some point Rey joins in.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In the longer series I'm co-writing, [Stars and Skies](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8637709/chapters/19817020), the _Clone Wars_ is a holonovella series which Finn, Poe, and eventually Rey, decide to write fanfiction about. 
> 
> Thanks to the [Star Wars Writing Alliance](http://starwarswritingalliance.tumblr.com/) for all the fun and support.
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely [Starbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineasako22/pseuds/starbirdrampant). All accidental or willful revisions of _Clone Wars_ canon are my fault.

“No offense, Senator, but when I signed on, it was to fight Separatists, not to be a diplomatic courier.”

“We have the clones to fight this war,” Padmé pointed out.  

“Yeah, and they got enough problems, being clones and all, we don’t need them getting shot for us when we’ve got people who want to serve,” Poe pointed out.

“It’s not like that,” Padmé said, but they both knew it was exactly like that.

There was a long pause, then Poe stood up. “So, thanks for the offer, but I’m good. I’m up for promotion soon—”

“I’ll make you a deal. Fly me to Kashyyyk and back, and if you still don’t want the job, I’ll…”

Poe raised an eyebrow, and she stopped. “Were you going to _threaten_ me?” He laughed.

Padmé laughed in return. “No! I was going to try to bribe you, actually, but what does the most daring pilot in the Republic need from me?”

Poe grinned. “You were going to offer to buy my commission or something, weren’t you?”

“Not _buy_!” she protested, sounding shocked. “But I might know some people.”

“Okay, here’s the deal. I bus you halfway around the galaxy, and if I don’t want the job, you let me _earn_ my own damned promotion, got it?” 

“Captain Dameron, I might make a diplomat out of you, yet.”

…

Of course the mission was a disaster from start to finish: they were being tracked, which resulted in a Separatist ambush, and by the time Poe barely got her to Kashyyyk alive, he could paint more droids fighters on his fuselage in one afternoon than he had already in the two years he had flying with the Republic.

(The Republic kept the volunteer squadrons out of most of the action. They were “civilians,” after all, and the clones were _there_ to protect them. Poe knew his commanders were holding him back, but he hadn’t quite realized to what extent.)

There he met a Jedi who Padmé was… _familiar_ with, a Knight by the name of Skywalker, and trouble seemed to follow _him_ like a magnet. Also Poe was pretty certain Skywalker and Padmé were sleeping together.

Since, you know, he actually caught them at it.

If he hadn’t made up his mind by then, he might have been given no choice, or the Jedi might have tried to wipe his memory, or something else he didn’t want, so he was sworn to secrecy instead, and Anakin—he’d seen the man naked, on all fours while his wife fucked him, so yeah, he was allowed to call the Jedi by his first name—said he’d let him fly with the clone squadrons if he could manage it, and meanwhile Poe would keep Padmé Amidala “out of trouble,” which apparently meant help get her out of the trouble her rather harrowing diplomatic jobs got her in—or (Poe hadn't decided which it was) that she got herself into. It was honestly more action than he was going to get anywhere else.

“One more condition, though,” Poe said, and Padmé rolled her eyes. “You need to buy a ship with guns. No way I’m rolling around the galaxies in a karking _yacht_.”

…

Poe met Finn while on a mission with Padmé and Anakin.

He had met lots of clones by this point, and he made it a point to try to remember them by their names (mostly because their designations were harder to remember) and to note subtle differences in haircut or personality. They all had the same dark skin, bright eyes, full lips, and sloping cheekbones, and Poe thought even if he weren’t as gay as the cycle on Tatooine is long he would have thought them attractive. He admired Captain Rex, whom Anakin trusted, and Fives and Echo were the best to play sabacc with.

Each of them actually was a testament to humanity—that even though they were all grown from the same DNA, raised the same, trained the same ( _Indoctrinated the same_ , Poe thought in his darker moments where he wondered what the Republic had become), they were still individuals. They were still people.

Finn’s designation was FN-2187. Poe made a mental note to remember that one, and the fact that his helmet was decorated with three blue slashes across the brow. Poe was tinkering with his astromech when he noticed the trooper watching him. They were camped out, and the trooper’s helmet was off and resting by his side.

“Hey,” Poe said.

“Hey,” the trooper replied, then seemed to think better of it. “Sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to stare.” He seemed almost skittish, like he’d gotten in trouble for this before.

“Whoa, are you new? No one calls me ‘sir.’ Name’s Poe. Poe Dameron. What do they call you?”

“Finn,” Finn said, giving him a bright, relieved smile.

Poe all but swooned at that smile. “Finn, I like that.”

“Good to meet you, Poe.”

“Good to meet you, too, Finn.” Poe was still grinning, possibly too much, and there was a silence that stretched almost to awkward. Shit, he had it bad. 

Finn salvaged the moment: “Can I ask what you’re doing?”

“Just giving BB-8 here a tune-up,” he explained, and at the mention of their name, BB-8 swiveled and burbled conversationally.

“Whoa! He’s awake when you do that?” Finn asked, and then seemed to think that was a stupid question. “I mean—does it hurt him? Or—bother—him?” He laughed nervously. “Is that a totally weird question?”

Poe smiled. He’d never seen anyone take so much interest in his droid—even Anakin, who liked droids, merely appreciated BB-8 from a distance. “I dunno,” he said, looking at BB-8’s eye. “They like it much less when I shut them off for these things.” BB-8 hooted, and Poe laughed.

“What? What did he say?”

“They said it tickles,” Poe said, and nodded for Finn to sit closer so he could show him what he was doing. They talked long into the night, until Poe realized he had talked Finn through to his guard shift, and feeling guilty at keeping him up, Poe just relocated and stayed up with him.

The next day they rescued a village of refugees, and by the all the moons in all the galaxies, if seeing Finn with a youngling tucked under each arm as they moved them all to a secure location didn’t give him heart-eyes, he wasn’t sure what else would.

Poe ran up to him, followed by the rest of the squadron, who helped move the refugees and troopers to a more secure location. “Finn!” he cried, and Finn’s helmet looked at him.

“Poe Dameron!” Finn responded, hiking the bigger kid up on his hip.

Poe was beaming. “Need some help there?” he offered, and turned to the smaller of the children. “Hey there, kiddo. Want to let me carry you for a while?”

The child whined and curled closer to Finn. Poe didn’t blame her, but Finn laughed. “No, it’s all right. Poe’s a friend. You can go to him if you want.”

The older child whispered something to Finn’s helmet.

“No, no one’s going to separate you and your sister. I promise. Poe and me are going to stick together, right? So you don’t need to worry.”

Poe was feeling a little faint for some reason, but he nodded. “Yeah. Me and Finn are good friends,” he said, and the little girl, accepting this, reached for him and clung to him.

Later, when they made camp, the younglings decided to gift Finn with a flower crown, which looked very handsome on him and which he dutifully wore all night.

Poe knew this, because they shared a pallet, the siblings sleeping between them.

When they inevitably parted, because the mission was over and Padmé was needed on the Core Worlds again, Poe rashly tugged off the necklace he was wearing—a leather strap and an old gear from BB-8—and gave it to Finn. It was sentimental and cheesy and he immediately regretted it, but he couldn’t exactly take it back. “For caring so much about my little droid,” he explained, though it was more than that. BB-8 hummed happily.

“Thank you, Poe Dameron,” Finn said, and he sounded like he was smiling, though Poe couldn’t tell with the helmet on.

“I saw that,” Padmé said later, once they were in hyperspace. “You and the trooper.”

“What _about_ me and the trooper?” Poe said, his voice pitched high. “What trooper? I know several troopers. I don’t even know what you’re talking about!”

Padmé waited.

“He is really cute,” Poe said, in his defense.

“They all look the same,” Padmé said, bemused. 

“They _don’t_. Finn is gorgeous!” Poe gasped and clapped a hand over his mouth, glaring at Padmé when she laughed. “I mean—”

Padmé laughed. “Hey, I’m married to a Jedi Knight. Stranger things have happened.”


	2. Chapter 2

Poe didn’t meet Finn again for many months, even with Padmé and Anakin both working to request Finn’s squad be assigned to their same missions or to get him assigned to Rex’s squad. But they had bigger problems. And it was a big war.

When they did finally meet again, in fact, Poe was convinced he was never going to see Finn again. Or anyone, really, since he was captured by Separatists and was going to be tortured until he died or gave up where Anakin was to these absolute  _ psychos _ .

Okay, not Separatists, technically, but whatever their affiliation and interest in him, being tortured by Dathomirian witches was not the way Poe Dameron wanted to go. They weren’t Sith, but they were definitely Dark Side, and there was a reason he tried not to get mixed up in this Force stuff.

He hung from his wrists with his toes just barely scraping the floor, while they burned something at his feet that made him sick and dizzy, and, he was pretty sure, hallucinate. That was what he hoped, anyway, otherwise he was definitely involved in some freaky rite or spell that called for fresh blood. Also he was naked. It ended with the Zabrak Nightbrothers working out their aggression beating the hell out of him, and the witches asking him questions, for codes and base locations. Poe wasn’t sure if he gave anything up, or what, if so.

He knew Padmé wasn’t coming for him, and Anakin was even less likely. The Republic had bigger things to worry about than recovering one captured starfighter pilot from one planet controlled by psychotic force-wielding witches. It was funny how the existence of clones made individuals matter  _ less _ in the scheme of things. Poe kriffing hated when politics and ethics were at odds. Especially when he was the one getting fragged by it. 

When a Zabrak approached him he flinched on instinct, even if he was reaching up to release his wrists. It was early morning, and most of them were asleep. Apparently being evil all night meant most of them slept in quite late.

“What, you didn’t get your jollies last night?” Poe mumbled through a split lip, but the way the Zabrak with clone-dark skin touched the fresh blood on his chin was almost tender.

“The priestess has need of him,” the Zabrak said to someone off to Poe’s left, and he shuddered but didn’t struggle when he was lowered into the arms of the Zabrak, who wasn’t ungentle, and a small grunt escaped him at the new position of his sore arms.

The Zabrak gave him only a moment’s support before standing him on his feet. “Walk, or I’ll drag you there,” he growled, and stars and skies if there wasn’t something familiar about this filthy Zabrak’s eyes but maybe Poe was just seeing things again (or still) or maybe this was just wishful thinking and wait wasn’t the priestess’s hut  _ that _ way?

Poe jerked back, startled, but the Zabrak had a tight grip on his elbow. “Your tattoos are smeared,” he whispered. Which meant they weren’t tattoos. “Oh gods.” His legs went weak, and he stumbled.

“Turn here,” and now the voice was familiar, too, as Finn, with what looked now like  _ bad _ Zabrak make-up and stuck-on head spines, let him rest against a rock. “Poe, it’s me, it’s—”

“Finn,” Poe gasped, and grinned, and Finn grinned back.

“I’m gonna get you out of here,” he said, speaking too quickly in Poe’s opinion, but he was helping him into some trousers and shoes.

“H-how did you—”  _ even know I was captured? How did you find me? How did you get them to let you come after me? _

“Long story. I’ve got us a transport, but I—lost my pilot.” Poe looked around, but Finn shook his head. “No. We were surprised—he didn’t make it.” He stood up and sliced through the binders on Poe’s wrists. Poe was shaking, from something like an adrenaline crash or a fear that this wasn’t real and he felt like he was going to be sick or burst into tears. Finn looked worried. “Can you fly?”

“Of course I can fly,” Poe said, a little blearily. “But they—” Poe hurt all over. And with the drugs wearing off the ordeal was getting to him.

Finn looked grim. “I  _ know _ . I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. I meant, are you  _ well _ enough to fly? Your injuries. I have a med kit in the ship, but we need to get out of here. I can carry you.”

“I can walk—” Poe tried, but the world tilted and the trooper had already scooped him into his arms, as easy as anything. Which was lucky, because Poe blacked out. 

When Poe woke he was in a pilot’s seat of a— “VX-9  _ gunship _ ?” he squeaked. “Just to rescue  _ me _ ?”

“You’re awake, thank the moons,” Finn was saying from where he crouched in front of Poe, helping him to drink something sweet, and he laughed as Poe instantly recognized the starship they were in. “It’s General Skywalker’s. Let me know what to do, when you’re ready to fly, and I can help you.”

Poe grasped Finn’s wrist, gulping at the sweet drink, for he was desperately thirsty and just as hungry.

“…And then I’m going to get you cleaned up, see to your injuries. But, Poe, we  _ need _ to get out of here, I’m sorry to ask this of you after—after—”

He was so damned  _ nice _ , Poe was reminded. For Finn, he could do anything.

“I can fly,” he said with a smile, and though it wasn’t his best takeoff, it wasn’t his worst, and it was pretty great considering his hands were still shaking and he had to pause to throw up while programming the nav computer for hyperspace, letting them list back toward the planet. It was something of a miracle he lasted that long, frankly, as his breath began to come quicker and black spots swam before his vision. “R—read me that number back again?” he demanded, his vision swimming. Gods, were his teeth chattering?

Finn pulled a blanket around his shoulders and dutifully read the numbers back, slowly and clearly.

“Good, good,” Poe said. “Th-that lever. There’s a—no, wait.” He flicked the compressor, and that last movement drew a whimper out of him. “Okay. Jumping—” he said, and shot them into hyperspace.

When the stars blurred this time it was because they were supposed to, and Poe sagged back against the seat.

He was relaxed and completely unprepared for his body to flail back wildly, fear punching through him, as Finn reached towards him: “No!” he gasped, pressing a hand back against Finn’s chest, afraid before he came back to himself.

Finn froze, hands raised.

“K-kriff,” he said, as his vision cleared. “Finn. Finn,” he gasped, and closed his eyes and shuddered. “Ssorry. The make-up.” Turns out, seeing his crush looking like the monsters who had assaulted him freaked Poe out just a little.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Finn said, sounding so gentle Poe wasn’t sure how anyone could possibly get the clones mixed up. Rex was good people, but he wasn’t  _ tender _ like this.

Finn scrubbed his face on his sleeve and with a hiss snapped the spikes off his forehead. “Let’s get you into the back. We’ll be in hyperspace for a while. This okay?” he asked when the disguise was gone, and Poe let his eyes wander over Finn before he nodded. Finn smiled and eased Poe into his arms, pressing him against his neck, and Poe was struck by how good he smelled.  _ Unique _ .

“Why’d you come after me?” he wondered, limp in his arms. “Since when are you an ARC trooper?”

“I’m not an ARC trooper, yet. But I’m in covert ops since you were captured and General Skywalker offered me the job,” Finn said, laying him out on a bed. The ‘why’ was answered when Poe saw the necklace still swinging against his chest. Poe was shivering, and Finn laid another blanket over him and opened up the medical kit. “I’m going to clean you up,” he said, suddenly very clinical as he stripped him and proceeded to disinfect his wounds and check for serious injuries. “Sorry I can’t give you anything for the pain right now. I don’t know what they drugged you with and I’m afraid of a bad interaction.”

Finn’s hands were so kind.

“You a medic?” Poe wondered, blinking slowly.

“Wasn’t bred for it,” Finn answered with a shrug, and that made Poe frown. “But sometimes I think I’d like to be a lot of things I wasn’t bred for.”

“Shame. You’d be really good at it. Really—gentle.”

Finn chuckled. “I don’t think any of my brothers are bred to be gentle, exactly. Not even the medics.”

Poe winced as the disinfectant burned. “Thanks for coming after me. I owe you one.”

“You don’t,” Finn replied, and then something flickered in his eyes, like he had just decided something, and he ran his fingers through Poe’s hair. Poe gave a little sigh and relaxed further, and Finn smiled sadly at him. “I’m sorry about what happened—what you went through.” He looked pained suddenly, and Poe shook his head.

“Buddy. I’m—trying  _ really _ hard not to think about it. I was…pretty high, so I don’t remember much. I could be a traitor for all I know—”

“Poe, giving up information under  _ torture _ isn’t—” Finn said, but his raised voice made Poe flinch again, and he stopped. “Okay, I’m sorry. What can I do?”

Poe shook his head. “Hurts.” Nothing Finn could do about that.

Finn nodded and got to work applying bacta gel and bandages liberally. It could almost put Poe to sleep. “We’ll have an actual doctor take a look at you when we get back.” He touched Poe’s hair again, experimentally, but even though Poe seemed to like it again, Finn frowned. “You’re really warm.”

Poe shivered. “Feels cold.”

Finn tucked the blankets tighter around him, and Poe didn’t have to ask him to stay with him.


	3. Chapter 3

It soon became apparent that Poe couldn’t keep any liquids down, and he got worse before he got better. Poe was barely alive by the time they made it back to base. Skywalker had to effectively land the ship for Finn remotely with the Force, and resolved to have Finn taught how to fly.

In the medbay they had to dunk him in an ice bath before a bacta tank because his fever was so high, and they replaced all his fluids and the entire contents of his stomach while his lungs were clearing out, and his heart stopped twice.

But Finn had to return to duty, so when Poe woke for the first time, Padmé was there.

“Finn?” he gasped.

BB-8 burbled worriedly, and Poe rested a hand on the droid’s dome.

Padmé squeezed his arm. “Hey,” she said. “He’s on another mission with Master Skywalker. You—you were out for two days.”

“He saved my life,” Poe said.

But Finn wasn’t here, and Padmé filled him in in the meantime: she had been in charge of finding FN-2187, and Anakin of offering him the mission. “He took it without hesitation,” she said, and smiled. “He’s doing very well under Captain Rex’s command. So you may be seeing a lot more of him.”

Poe had a smile on his face when he closed his eyes.

Once the poison was out of his system, Poe recovered quickly. Sure, he had some nasty bruises and his wrist was in a cast, but all things considered, he got off easy.

It was another week, though, before Finn was back, walking in line with Anakin Skywalker and the rest of his new squad. Poe didn’t hide his grin, but between him and Padmé the barely muffled excitement was tangible. C3PO’s and R2’s reunion was heartwarming, too.

“Mission a success?” Padmé asked, and Anakin nodded.

“Mission debrief?” he said, and when Padmé replied, “In an hour,” Poe knew to make himself scarce unless he wanted to catch them having sex again, so he stood, beaming, in front of Finn as his squadmates went off duty.

“You look great,” Finn said, after a moment.

Poe laughed. “I can only _guess_ you look as great as usual,” he replied, because Finn was still wearing his helmet.

“Oh, the uniform!” Finn laughed, and the helmet came off with a hiss. “There. All right?”

Poe’s smile was huge. “Yeah. Great.” All the clones looked the same, and yet Finn was the handsomest of them all. Gods, did Poe want to kiss him. “You’re off-duty now, right? Can I buy you a drink—or twelve? Not sure what my life is worth in booze,” he joked, but Finn frowned.

“You don’t owe me anything, Poe Dameron.” He looked so serious Poe decided to drop it instead of explaining that it was a joke.

“Okay…well, can I buy you a drink—as a friend?”

Finn nodded and smiled brightly. “Sure!”

It turned out Finn was fucking hilarious, which, just wasn’t fair. He was sweet, he was gentle, he was a consummate badass, he cared about droids, cared about kids, and now he was funny, too? Not to mention that _smile_. Poe was helpless, really.

Still, he was entirely surprised when he got back to his room—after inviting Finn in for a shot of aged Corellian brandy—and Finn asked, suddenly, if he could kiss him.

“Um. What?”

“It didn’t seem the time when you were—you know—recently tortured and barely conscious,” Finn explained. “And I thought, since you invited me in you… Only I—” He laughed nervously and then stepped back. He looked afraid all of a sudden. “Oh, kriff, and if I’ve misread this and—but I thought that you—and Senator Amidala said—”

Poe’s reflexes surprised them both as he grabbed Finn’s arms, drawing him in close. Without his armor, and dressed in short-sleeved fatigues only, Finn looked more vulnerable, and almost a little nervous, but so painfully earnest Poe leaned in to look for any cracks in the façade.

“I thought you all were supposed to be asexual or something!” he found himself saying, and then he could have kicked himself for _starting_ with that, but Finn only bit his lip, grinning.

“I told you. There’s a lot of things I was bred for that I don’t necessarily want to be.”

Neither of them moved.

“I—didn’t misread this, did I?” Finn breathed.

“N-no,” Poe whispered. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the day you first asked about BB-8.”

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since you gave me this,” Finn said, touching the leather cord around his neck.

“Kriff!” Poe laughed. “I could give you twenty necklaces better than that.” He tugged off whatever he was wearing—a gold necklace strung with a pair of whisperbird wings—and handed it to Finn. “If that’s all it takes!”

Finn looked down at it. “I’ll settle for the kiss,” he said with a shy grin, and then Poe was kissing him so hard he knocked Finn backwards into the wall.

…

Finn had to return to his own bunk eventually, though they had moved to Poe’s bed to continue kissing and talking, and Poe’s shirt had come off by then, and when Finn first sat up to leave Poe wondered what he had done wrong.

“Captain Rex won’t—he can’t know—” Finn put his head in his hands. “Kriff. This was easier when I wasn’t sure how you felt about me. It’s easy to hide a _crush_.”

Poe winced. He saw what hiding her relationship did to Padmé every day. But he thought about it for only a moment before he made up his mind. “Finn, I know. I know we can’t—there’s a war on, and you’re—” _practically a slave to the Republic, you can’t just quit, no clone trooper has ever tried, and we’re both dedicated to the cause, anyway, I wouldn’t quit, not when Padmé needs me_ , “but I would rather have a part of you, in secret, sometimes, and enjoy every time we have five minutes alone together—than not have you at all.”

Finn beamed and kissed him again. For having only known how to kiss for the past two hours, he was pretty good. “I want to stay here, but I should go back to my bunk,” he said finally. “Or the guys’ll know.”

Poe nodded. “If you can sneak back in the middle of the night, my bed’s always open to you,” he said, and Finn grinned playfully.

“That would be a neat trick. Maybe something General Skywalker wants me to practice. You know, ARC Trooper training,” he said thoughtfully, and kissed Poe again.

“Wouldn’t it?” Poe grinned, and pushed him back to the bed and slid on top of him as they kissed. “Mm, I have had dreams about this for months now.”

“Keep dreaming,” Finn said, extricating himself with care.

…

Poe had indeed almost given up when he felt a tap at his door. He leapt to his feet and pushed the button to open it. “If I’d have known you weren’t kidding, I would have given you the—mmf!” he cried, as Finn was inside and kissing him quiet. “Code!” he finished, breathless.

“I have to be back before reveille,” Finn said, when they parted for air. “I imagined sleeping with you in my arms and I just—couldn’t stay there by myself when—Poe, you almost died, you were _still dying_ and I had to go out on another mission!” He was hugging him fiercely, sounding almost frantic.

“But I didn’t die,” Poe said, cupping Finn’s face with both hands and kissing him. “Because of you. I’m here, and I’m yours, and you can hold me all night.”

Finn smiled like he had just been given several puppies. “Okay. But I actually am tired. Sleeping on a ship just doesn’t cut it.”

“Speak for yourself,” Poe, who felt most comfortable in the cockpit, replied. He slept on the outside of the bed, insisting on it, so that Finn would have to wake him up to get out. They wriggled through a few different positions before settling on spooning with Finn at Poe’s back so Finn could circle his arms around him, and press his nose to the back of Poe’s neck.

“This good?” Finn asked, sounding almost giddy.

“Yeah. Great. This is fantastic,” Poe said, and yawned, linking their fingers together and moving Finn’s arm slightly to not press against a bruised rib.

“Thank you.”

“Thank _you._ ”

…

Poe had the best night’s sleep of his life, followed by the worst morning of all time when Finn had to leave before they’d even caught five hours of rest together. It was better than nothing, he told himself, and tossed and turned and couldn’t get back to sleep and went and sobbed at Padmé’s over her fancy brunch.

“I can’t do this,” he said. “I can’t share him. I want to wake up with him in my arms and kiss him awake but the _fucking_ Republic won’t let us be together and oh gods maybe it’s better if I just try to get over him and move on…”

“You don’t mean that,” Padmé scolded. She was much better at this than him. “You can do this, and you will.”

She was much more dedicated to the Republic—to helping fix its problems—than Poe would ever be. But she was right. He could, and he would.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's where it gets smutty, folks...
> 
> And even more meta than this already is.

Finn snuck out of his barracks and into Poe’s bunk the next night, too. Poe had cornered him after watching Torrent company run their usual PT but before Finn got to the freshers, and he had traced the code to his room on his chest. “Think you can remember that?”

“Don’t think I could ever forget.” Finn grinned.

Poe had changed it to 2187.

“Some tech is going to get suspicious,” Finn said. “Using my number for your door code.”

“Oh, yeah, because they monitor the door codes to the thousands of private rooms on this station,” Poe answered, curling his arms around his neck and kissing him hard. “And there’s no way two random numbers…matching up like that would be more than…coincidence.” He grinned playfully as their hips slotted together and he ground against him.

Finn squeaked in something like alarm, and Poe took a half-step back.

“Sorry, am I moving too fast?” he asked. “It’s a pilot thing. Sorry.”

“I-it’s okay.” But Finn looked relieved at that, so Poe stepped back again.

Anyway, I haven’t even seen you with your shirt off yet, so we’ve got time to take this slow. And you’ve seen…most of me, so that’s hardly fair,” Poe said, without missing a beat.

“All of you,” Finn corrected, “but you weren’t at your best.”

Poe laughed, and Finn blushed.

“Oh! I mean—well you were—” his brow furrowed pitifully, and Poe kissed his chin.

“No need to explain. I’m sure we’re both trying to forget the part where I threw up on you, so let’s make some new memories. Want to sit on the bed? We could pick up where we left off last night, only without our shirts. If that sounds good?”

Finn smiled brightly. “Oh, hell, yeah,” he said, and was already tugging off his fatigues, but Poe stopped him.

“Would you let me take it off you?” he asked.

Finn gulped, and sat heavily. “Oh.  _ Yeah _ !” he said, looking eager and fidgety but like he had no clue what he was doing.

Poe took a deep breath at that.  _ Slow down, Dameron. Don’t want to scare him off. _

But against his better judgment, Poe crawled into Finn’s lap, grabbed his face, and kissed him until they couldn’t breathe.

“May I?” he gasped again when they parted, grabbing the hem of Finn’s shirt, fingertips tracing skin just beneath.

Finn made a strangled noise that sounded like alarm, but he nodded eagerly. “Yeah,” he said, after a minute, when it was clear Poe was waiting for verbal confirmation.

Then Poe got an awful idea in his head and stopped, sliding back a bit.

“Wait—Poe?”

“Crap,” Poe said. “Sorry, I—” he tried, giving Finn a look of sad longing. “Finn. Look. As far as I know, all Clones are bred for, like, ‘total obedience.’” He made a face. “I just want to make sure you know—and I know—that you’re here because  _ you _ want to be here, and that you never have to agree to anything you don’t want—”

“Poe Dameron, watch your mouth. I’m not a mindless automaton, I’m a person, just like you. Stop treating me like an infant—or—a virgin, I have had sex before. Got it? This— _ you _ —are so absolutely something that I  _ want _ for myself, and I really fucking resent you thinking I’m, like, unable to consent or—”

“Okay, okay, sorry,” Poe said, throwing up his hands. “I’m sorry. I—just—really care about you, and I wanted to make sure  _ I _ wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

“Infantilizing me is wrong,” Finn said, and impatiently grabbed Poe around his middle, making Poe huff as he knocked the air from his lungs.

“Got it, sorry,” Poe grunted, relaxing somewhat. “I’m sorry,” he said again, enjoying the tightness of Finn’s arms around him, even if some old bruises still ached. “But—okay. Respecting the full scope of your agency, you  _ do _ deal with orders barked at you all day, and I don’t want to add—”

There was a blur, and suddenly Poe found himself on his back on the bed, with Finn leaning over him. They both looked startled at this new position, but Finn hid his fear well enough by kissing Poe until he shut up.

“The only one who’s going to be giving orders in this bed is me,” Finn said, hot against Poe’s jaw, and then they both flushed as what he had just said  _ did _ to them. Finn felt warm in his face and hands, all of a sudden, like,  _ wow _ , it felt good just to say that, but it was followed too quickly by a rush of terror—had he gone too far? Did Poe want that? Would he be reported? “Er—I mean—sorry. I got frustrated and just wanted to—I thought you might—but I should have asked—sorry!” Finn tried drawing back, but Poe’s feelings about the situation were already clear:  

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Poe whined, pupils blown wide, and he wriggled just so beautifully under Finn. “Finn,  _ yes _ . Don’t apologize.”

Finn, coiled as if to spring, unknotted. “Really? Um. That was—okay?”

“Finn, yeah.” Poe was already imagining what that would mean, taking orders your whole life and finally being able to  _ give _ them, to exercise a part of you that they tried to breed out, to be a release for Finn, something he needed to feel more human, more individual, and Maker, how was it fair that this guy had the cipher to all his kinks already? It didn’t hurt that something that felt good for Finn felt fantastic for Poe.

Poe pulled himself together, somewhat, since Finn still looked nervous. “You can give  _ some _ of the orders, anyway.” He grinned, leaning up for a kiss.

Finn obliged, melting into the kiss with a small, relieved laugh. “Most of them?” he purred.

“Deal,” Poe laughed, and it cleared all tension in the room. They were back to where they had been before Poe put his foot in it, just two guys, sweet and exploring—except now with raging boners trapped in their trousers, no big deal.

“So are you going to take my shirt off, ever?” Finn wondered, or meant to wonder, but it came out more of a command.

Poe laughed, scrabbling at the back of the shirt and tugging it forward over his head.

“Oh my stars and skies,” he gasped, when Finn drew back, proud and yet blushing, all rippling pectorals and washboard abs and chiseled biceps cut into warm-dark skin.

Poe had a sudden urge to write sonnets about Finn’s nipples.

Finn was a galaxy Poe wanted to spend the rest of his life exploring. And glancing back up at his face was almost a shock: his face looked out of place, now, kind—and even  _ young _ , no matter what he said—on the body of a soldier, and it made Poe almost want to cry. “Gods, you’re beautiful,” he said, and his voice cracked.

Finn at least had the decency to look embarrassed at how hot he was. “I’ve seen about a hundred other guys with bodies just like mine, so it’s…nothing sp—”

Poe touched two fingers to Finn’s lips. “If you finish that sentence I will scream. I might scream anyway, thinking about how many other people have looked at you when I’ve been denied the sight for thirty-two years of my life.” Poe was going to faint, tracing planes of muscles and bone and skin, fingers curling around short hairs at the back of his neck. In a few places, Finn giggled and curled away.

“Ticklish?”

Finn shrugged. “Maybe. No one’s ever touched me like that.”

“Then I have to make up for lost time—and lost opportunity.” He tried to sit up, wanting more, but Finn held him down with a wry smile.

“I believe it’s my turn.”

“Not yet!” Poe whined, but he was laughing. “I haven’t licked every inch of your body yet!”

“Patience,” Finn rumbled, sliding back to play with the bottom of Poe’s shirt.

“Never say ‘patience’ to a starfighter pilot,” Poe whined, but he threw his arms over his head to help Finn get his shirt off. And although Finn had seen this all before, Poe was surprised at the look of—of something like awe, but more tender, on Finn’s face as his eyes raked him over.

Finn actually almost had to blink away tears. Poe’s injuries weren’t fresh, but there were still-healing cuts and bruises that painted a picture of how he had almost lost this before he ever had it.

And even if that hadn’t compromised him, the canvas the injuries were painted upon was unlike anything Finn had ever seen up close. Poe was different,  _ individual _ , in every possible way. His skin was uneven in color—tan in places and more pale in others, and his chest and cheeks were flushed the same dark rose hue. He had much more hair than any of Finn’s brothers, on his chest and under his arms and over his arms and running down to his belly-button, and lower. He was athletic, almost wiry, but his muscles weren’t very well-defined, and he had wrinkles and extra skin in some places.

His teeth fascinated Finn, suddenly. The slight gap between his two front teeth. It was rakish and playful and handsome and innocent and looked like the Maker had made a very adorable mistake that was somehow just for Finn’s amusement. But the Maker had also made up for it in the perfect angle of his jaw, dotted with stubble thicker than it had been yesterday.

Finn wanted to lick it. So he did.

Poe hummed and relaxed further under Finn’s touch. “Finn, oh gods,” he moaned, as Finn took both his hands, tangled their fingers together, and pressed them to the bed so he could kiss him at his leisure.

And Poe was content to let Finn explore him until the end of time,  _ really _ he was, except he was a man with needs, too. “Finn!” he squeaked, and had to cough as Finn laughed. “Finn, I want to taste you. May I taste you, please?” If he phrased it as a question, it wouldn’t sound like an order.

Finn hummed and drew back, considering this with a fond smile. “Yeah. You—want to suck my dick?” he asked, stating it straightforwardly, though his smile gave away how shy he secretly was. “Is that what you’re asking?”

“Yes, yes, please,” Poe gasped, wriggling in Finn’s hold, but Finn tightened his grip.

“Oh. Oh I  _ like _ hearing you beg,” he said, discovering a new pleasure.

“You’re gonna like my mouth on your cock a lot more, I promise,” Poe grumbled, struggling in earnest, and Finn let him up, let Poe push him down and tug his trousers and underwear off in one movement. “Stars and moons, fuck,” Poe said, eyes tracing down physical perfection, abs, hips, thighs, cock, knees, “Gods, even your feet are the most perfect feet I think I’ve ever seen.”

“Okay, not what I expected to hear…” Finn said with a nervous chuckle.

“Give me a moment, okay? I’ve never been in the presence of royalty before,” Poe tried to joke, but Finn rolled his eyes.

“You work for the former Queen of Naboo. And you’re being weird. Put that mouth to work, Captain,” he said, and hummed, settling back, warmth spreading through him at just  _ giving _ the order.

And Poe couldn’t disappoint that adorably smug face. He started slow but didn’t tease, as it was quickly becoming apparent that whatever sexual experience Finn had, receiving a blowjob wasn’t part of it. Poe liked giving head, he was good at it, and he pulled out all the stops, using his hands only as necessary, and he swallowed Finn to the hilt after only a few attempts.

Finn didn’t last long, and might have been embarrassed about that if it didn’t feel so fantastic. His rather limited sexual experience—with his own hand, mostly—or with a soldier here, a civilian there, always quick, never with someone he knew or even ever saw again— _ never _ with another clone, by the way, that was fucking  _ incest _ —paled, absolutely was fucked right out of his mind with this orgasm. He knew to be quiet, but he wished he could scream so the stars would hear him, to thank them for sending him this pilot.

“You with me, buddy?” Poe was saying, after he had swallowed everything and kissed his way up Finn’s body.

“Yeah. Yeah. Oh my gods, Poe. Poe,” Finn gasped, and Poe couldn’t help but laugh as he perched smugly on Finn’s chest.

“So you like that. That was good? We can do more of that. We should do lots more of that. How long ‘til you—”

But Finn was getting sleepy, and in his post-orgasmic haze he was bossy, wanting things a certain way so he could sleep comfortably.

“Come here,” he said, yanking him into a kiss that left them both dazed. “Take your pants off and get the lights,” he instructed, softer than an order, though saying it still felt good, and it felt good when Poe scrambled up like he wanted nothing more in the world than to make Finn’s every wish come true. “And come back here.” He pawed at Poe in the sudden dark, wanting to give him something better but he was fading, reveille was in six hours, and this was basically the extent of his experience, so he pulled Poe into his arms, back to front, and reached around to grasp his cock and work him, spit-slicked, to an efficient orgasm.

Poe thought he was over trading quiet handjobs in shared bunks after his days at the Academy. But Finn’s hands were big and bossy and sleepy, and they were gentle but they were insistent, and most of all they were loving. They shouldn’t be made to hold a blaster, but until the Republic realized these men—or at least this man—was a lover, not a fighter, this would have to be their secret. And Poe liked being manhandled and loved like this, he liked being that outlet for Finn, and Finn made Poe a religious man because he needed a higher power than the Kaminoans or Jango Fett to thank for his existence.

He came, quietly, for he was practiced at this, too, but Finn wouldn’t let him get up to clean up but rubbed it into his skin, and then rolled over so he was more than half on top of Poe, barely before Poe had caught his breath.

Finn was asleep immediately, but Poe spent another hour at least cataloguing the heavy weight of Finn on top of him, his breath stirring his hair, the warmth he still felt from orgasm, the taste of him that was still on his tongue. Only when Poe was sure he committed everything to memory did he let himself slide into oblivion.


	5. Chapter 5

It still hurt the next morning when Finn had to leave before Poe was even fully awake.

“I have a free shift this afternoon,” he whispered, kissing across Poe’s face while Poe clung to him.

“Don’t go,” he moaned, not opening his eyes, but Finn laughed as he freed himself and struggled into his clothes.

“Go back to sleep. I’ll find you when I’m off duty.”

Poe hummed and nodded, and when he woke again at a more normal hour, Finn was gone, and he wasn’t sure he hadn’t dreamed that.

But Finn kept his promise, and found him in the canteen, the last fifteen minutes before it closed for lunch. “You’re just eating?” he teased.

“Someday I’m going to teach you how to sleep in,” Poe said, and Finn glanced around nervously as he sat sipping a protein shake. Poe waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it, nobody cares.”

Finn frowned, lowering his voice. “They do care. Troopers who have the capacity for romantic and sexual attraction are 83% more likely to go AWOL,” he hissed.

Poe wiggled his eyebrows. “Was that an invitation? To elope?”

“Poe, I’m being serious! They could make sure we never see each other ever again. Post me to the Outer Rim—”

“Oh, right, because  _ that _ will keep you from going AWOL,” Poe muttered, but held up a hand to forestall any protest. “Fine, fine. I’m sorry.” He sighed and stabbed at his food. “Didn’t mean to start anything. We’ll be careful,” he promised. He knew Anakin and Padmé fought about this sometimes, too. “What would you like to do today? Already told Senator Amidala I’ll be busy.” Poe smiled, but for Finn’s sake he kept the smile tame.

“Work out a code system,” Finn said, and laughed. “Maybe your room is the best place.” It’s not like they could go out for a walk outside, since they were on a space station. Unless…

“Is there a way I could take you for a joyride? My fighter’s here, after all.” It was much more fun to fly than Amidala’s ship. “It’s…very private, as long as I keep my dick off the comlink.”

Finn snorted, possibly distracted by that image.

“I’m sure we could get Anakin to agree with you getting Starfighter training—though Rex might take some bribing…” Already Poe’s mind was working, but Finn shook his head and took Poe’s arm.

“We can start going over the…uh, schematics…in your room. Bunk. Quarters.”

Poe was giggling helplessly as the trooper guided him out of the mess hall. “You’re a worse liar than I am!”

“This is what I mean about codes,” Finn said, shoving him bodily into his room before anyone could see. “Code words, signals. You’re too obvious.”

“Yeah,” Poe said. “No, I get it. Padmé and Anakin have code words when they—” Poe blanched, grabbing Finn with both hands. “ _ Oh my gods _ !”

“What—? General  _ Skywalker _ and—Senat—”

“No!” Poe cried, flinging himself at Finn to cover his mouth. “Maker, kriff! Now I have to kill you or something! Finn! You can’t tell anyone! Skywalker will kill me, the man is crazy! Oh my gods I can’t believe I—”

“Poe, Poe,” Finn said, taking his hands. “Easy. I won’t tell anyone. I swear, Poe. You trust me, don’t you?”

“Finn, I hardly  _ know _ you,” Poe whispered, going slightly weak. “And I just—”

“And already you’re telling me your deepest darkest secrets,” Finn teased, but Poe glowered. Finn reached back to tap the lock on the door and guided Poe to the bed. “I’d really rather hear some juicy secrets about  _ you _ .”

Poe laughed. “I’m a terrible liar and should never be trusted with galactic secrets?” he said bitterly, and flopped on his bed, throwing his arm over his face.

“Oh, come on. It’s not fair you having  _ all _ the blackmail material, after all,” Finn said, fingers curling around the hem of Poe’s shirt.

Poe huffed. “Yeah, but, I’d be screwing myself if I told anyone about us,” he protested, sitting up on his bunk and tearing his own shirt off.

Finn hummed appreciatively. “Poe, I don’t think you’ll ever have to screw yourself again as long as I’m alive.”

Poe laughed at that, and he relaxed a bit more when they were both naked. “We can say we’re going to ‘pour over’ something. Pour over plans, schematics, the next mission.”

Finn chuckled. “No one talks like that.”

“You got a better idea?”

Finn hummed. “Well. No. But you’re kind of distracting.”

Poe laughed, pulling Finn down on top of him. “C’mere,” he said, just holding him, and they kissed leisurely.

After a minute: “You know…I’ve never felt what it’s like to—” Finn huffed. “You’re gonna laugh.”

“What?” Poe asked. He was tracing patterns on Finn’s arms lightly with his fingernails, which Finn seemed to like, so he kept doing it. When Finn didn’t answer he lifted his head. “What have you never felt before?”

“Just—lying in bed, like this.” He wriggled, to punctuate his statement.

“They don’t let you just lie in bed? Not even when you’re off duty?!” Poe cried.

“No, no, they do, we’re allowed to do that, I mean—I just mean there’s no reason to ever be…entirely  _ naked _ . In bed. Certainly not with another person. It’s nice. That’s all. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Poe rolled them over so they curled up face to face, and smiled. “Didn’t upset me, buddy,” he said, and got up on one elbow. “Close your eyes. Tell me how it feels. Describe it to me.”

Finn blushed, feeling a bit strange now, but closed his eyes, and Poe curled around him, slotting their legs together. “It’s just…nice. Your bedding is soft.” He giggled, hands exploring Poe. “You’re soft.”

Poe grinned and ducked his head against Finn’s hand.

“Your hair is really—wow.” Finn opened his eyes, startled.

But Poe was still smiling. “That feels nice.”

“It does?” Finn brushed a hand over his short-cropped hair experimentally before returning it to Poe’s hair. “Yours is nicer.”

“I think it has something to do with whether it’s someone else touching your hair,” Poe tried, scrubbing a hand over Finn’s hair. “And yours isn’t long enough to grab onto.”

“You mean like this?” Finn asked, because he had just gotten Poe’s curls wrapped around his fingers, and pulled gently.

Poe’s eyes unfocused and he hummed. “Yeah. Like that.” He grunted softly, and Finn, now grinning, got a bigger handful and pulled harder. Poe’s moan was even more obscene this time, and Finn beamed.

“You  _ really _ like that.”

“Don’t try to tell me you don’t, too.”

“I do.” Finn could direct Poe in for a kiss this way. “I can tell you I’m certainly gonna pour over something…”

Poe spluttered out a laugh, breaking the kiss. “Okay, you’re right. That sounds really dumb.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I have some ideas for this, but it's definitely unfinished. Any encouragement or ideas, comments or concerns would be hugely appreciated in the comments, or on Tumblr at [Maeglinthebold](http://maeglinthebold.tumblr.com/).


End file.
